The Last March
by Cooperdawg
Summary: Lucidius, a retired Legionnaire has traveled to the far northern region of Skyrim in pursuit of a legend. Accompanied by a rag-tag group of adventurers, he is hoping for one last chance at finding the glory and fame he has sought his entire life. Only time and effort will tell if he will succeed.
1. Chapter 1

_The Last March_

Chapter One

Lucidius shivered in the cold morning air and pulled his cloak tighter about himself, but it did little to chase away the chill of his armor. His old Legion plates had lost a lot of their shine over the years, but it would have felt wrong to simply discard it. The Legion may have decided that he was no longer fit for service, but in his heart he was still a legionnaire.

He had served faithfully in the Imperial Legion for over forty years, and he would say that those years had been well-spent. Now, he was pushing sixty, but still felt like he had some fight left in him. He ran a hand over the remains of his graying hair and sighed. He had spent the last of his money putting together this one last expedition. He needed it to be worth it.

His mind wandered back to his preparations for the expedition as he marched up the game trail towards the camp, remembering all of the events that had led to him being where he was. It had started with rumors of some ancient artifact, resting atop one of the mountains in the north of Skyrim, near the old city of Winterhold. That fact alone made it dangerous for him to be here, especially in his Legion armor, as the entire Hold was controlled by the Stormcloak rebels, and the civil war was still in full swing. This being his last chance for glory, he had ignored the dangers and traveled north. He had intended to travel alone, but fate had had other plans in mind.

He had barely made it out of the city before his lifelong friend, from both before and during his career in the Legion, had caught up with him. Jo'Rakha was an aging Khajiit, just a few years younger than Lucidius himself. His pelt had once been a rich brown, but had since faded to gray. His eyes, however, still held the same spark of life that the cat had always had about him. Unlike most Khajiit, Jo'Rakha had been born and raised in Cyrodiil, and so had adopted Imperial speech and behavior, rather than the traditional Khajiit mindset. Lucidius had argued against the Khajiit joining him at first, but had given in fairly easily. Honestly, he was thankful for the company. It would be nice to have his oldest friend with him for this one last adventure.

Unfortunately, Jo'Rakha had not been the only one to join them as they left Cyrodiil. A young woman whom Lucidius had only met once or twice before had found them at the border and insisted on joining them. Arbell had been one of the Breton spellswords in the Legion, but had been discharged after recklessly getting an entire unit slaughtered in a border skirmish against bandits. Even before that, she had been carefully watched. Lucidius had never seen any confirmation of the rumors, but he had heard them often enough to believe that she was a necromancer. Even though there hadn't been a law explicitly banning the practice in decades, it still had a stigma associated with it.

He had never been fond of the woman, but he had been smart enough to keep his mouth shut. A good soldier never complained about the others he served with. That being said, the Commanders had every reason to kick her out. She was violently reckless and cared little for the soldiers under her command, even if she did get the job done.

As they had traveled through the city of Whiterun on their way north, they had come across a mercenary from Hammerfell who was offering his services cheaply. The man's name was Nachael. He claimed that he had once been a noble in the royal court of Sentinel, but the quality of his clothes was the same as every other mercenary Lucidius had ever met. He hadn't wanted to hire the man, but Jo'Rakha had insisted that they would need him. Even Arbell had been inclined to agree, though the way she had said it made her motivations questionable at best.

Lucidius had expected those three to be his only companions, until he reached Winterhold. The landscape had been a nightmare to navigate, the roads nearly impossible to find in the winter blizzards. Had it not been for a passing traveler who knew the area, Lucidius doubted that they would have survived. Later, at the tavern, they had bought the man some drinks as thanks and got to talking.

His name was Valund, and he described himself as a woodsman. To Lucidius' eyes, he was just another Nord drunkard. He was loud, boisterous, and did not seem to respect any sort of authority, including that from his own leader, whom he called a jarl. Lucidius had, once again, been against the idea of hiring the man to show them the way to their destination, but Jo'Rakha's insistence had made him cave in.

Even that had not been the end of it. A young scholar at the mage's college who had come down to the tavern for a night away from her studies overheard them speaking, and had wandered over, inquiring about the job. The young Argonian's name was Muz-Ra, and she was a self-proclaimed expert in restoration, while also having some skills in destruction. Her, Lucidius had welcomed with open arms. They would need a healer, if the dangers that he had heard of were not exaggerations, especially now that their party was as large it was. She had been the last he had talked to that night before heading to bed, but not the last before setting out the next morning.

As Lucidius rounded the last curve to approach the camp, he caught sight of Jo'Rakha standing guard at the trail head, his short bow and a quiver of arrows sitting at his feet. His greying pelt blended in expertly with the swirling snow. Lucidius nodded as he walked past, heading for the warmth of their fire. The other four members of the group were huddled around it for warmth. Muz-Ra was practically shaking in the cold, her mage's robes wrapped tightly about her, while Arbell was sitting comfortably a short distance away, sharpening her blade with a whet stone. Valund, claiming to be immune to the cold, was chopping wood in little more than a jerkin and trousers. Nachael sat silently, pondering the flames, his longsword resting across his knees.

Lucidius didn't know if he should reveal the identity of their last member. The only person in the group who knew of their existence despised them almost religiously, as would most of the others, Lucidius believed. Only Arbell, ironically enough, would probably be excited to learn of it. The person had come to him in the night before they left for the crack in the mountainside that should take them to the treasure. His memories of the night were fuzzy, partly due to being woken, and partly due to the mead he had drank before sleeping, but he did remember them not leaving until dawn began to break on the horizon.

They were camped only a short distance down the game trail to the black hole cut into the mountainside that would take them to their goal. Lucidius had spent months hunting down the information that should make him be successful, but nothing had pointed to an overland route. The journey was dangerous, there was no doubt of that. The journals and histories that he had dug up had pointed to traveling through an ancient Dwemer city whose name had been lost. Supposedly, there was a Dwemer construct within that would take them up to the top of the mountain, but the wording had Lucidius confused.

The journal had mentioned a city by the name of Aszlechtand, but then mentioned passing through a City of Night, whatever that meant. That the inconsistency existed had Lucidius worried, but he was not going to let that stop him.

"So, old man, when are we leaving?" Valund asked in between grunts as he worked.

"We leave at dawn. It took us most of the day to get here, as you well know," Lucidius answered shortly, "So I suggest you save your strength until then."

"Ach, I'll be fine. Besides, we need wood for the fire. Can't let it go out overnight. That will kill us as surely as any trap."

Lucidius shook his head. He wouldn't make it his problem that the man couldn't listen. He knew from years in service to the Empire that they had enough wood for the fire to last the night, but he wasn't going to waste his breath on trying to convince the stubborn Nord.

He took a seat at the fire and was promptly handed a bowl of stew. Jo'Rakha had managed to take down an ice wolf during the day's travels, and, while stringy, it actually tasted fairly good. No one spoke. For some, it was simply too cold. For others, they simply didn't feel the need to.

Before long, night had fallen. Muz-Ra disappeared into her tent to attempt to sleep, as did Arbell. Valund finally stopped chopping wood and retired himself to sleep as well. That left Lucidius sitting alone with the stoic Redguard mercenary, with Jo'Rakha sitting out in the snow, carefully watching the road.

"You should have told the Nord to return home," Nachael stated, "He has no place here."

"I couldn't agree more. I have no time for a man who refuses to listen to reason," Lucidius answered, "Unfortunately, the only way I could convince him to guide us here was to promise him a part of the spoils."

"Only a fool agrees to work for something that is not guaranteed."

Lucidius remained quiet at that. He had promised the Redguard his payment after the expedition. He had spent every last coin preparing for it and had nothing left with which to pay mercenaries.

After a time, Jo'Rakha came running into the camp, quiver over his shoulder and bow in hand. "Lucidius," he hissed, "Something is out there!" His eyes were wide with, not fear, but worry.

Lucidius had been expecting this. "Peace, my friend. I know who is out there. She will meet us in the morning."

The Khajiit narrowed his eyes and revealed his large canines. "_She_ is here?" he hissed angrily, "Lucidius, you know what I think of _her_."

Lucidius sighed. Every time she came up in conversation, it was the same thing. "I know, my old friend, but I did not seek her out. She followed me here. I didn't even know until last night."

"And I would wager that you quite enjoyed the night," Jo'Rakha snapped, angrily sitting by the fire, laying his bow and quiver next to him. Unlike the humans, he didn't use one of the logs set next to the fire for sitting on. Instead, he lowered himself cross-legged into the snow. It was one of the few inherently Khajiit features he had retained, despite his imperial upbringing; unless he was in a building, he would not use anything resembling a chair.

"I'm afraid I can't argue that. I don't know why she took an interest in me, but she has. Her company has been welcome over the waning years of my career."

"Bah! You can't even begin to call it company! She comes to you at most once every five years, spends a few days toying with you, and leaves again! And you have wondered why you couldn't find a wife after the War. I tell you every time, it is because that _thing_ twisted something in you!"

"Say what you will, Jo'Rakha, it is because of her that I am even alive! Those battlemages would have killed me outside the Imperial City had she not been there!" This was the one issue that could get Jo'Rakha to yell at him, and the fight would not be over until the old Khajiit had spoken his fill.

"And you seem to think that debt has not been repaid, and that it gives her the right to keep coming into your life!" Jo'Rakha was well and truly riled now. His hair was standing on end, surrounding his head like a mane.

"I think no such thing," Lucidius argued, "And it is my business if I enjoy her company, no one else's. That she has not gone to someone else speaks highly of me, I should think."

"And you can prove this? You know for certain that she has been with no other in the forty years since you met?"

Lucidius had to admit that he couldn't. But who was he to judge? It wasn't as though he had stayed chaste in the years between their meetings. "I'm finished with this argument, Jo'Rakha," he said, standing, "It is always the same. I'm going to bed."

"On your head be it," the Khajiit snapped back.

Throughout the entire exchange, Nachael sat silently.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Valund rose early and began preparing himself for the day's adventure. He pulled on his jerkin and trousers and belted his axe to his belt. He had never needed another weapon or tool. As he stepped outside to pack up his tent, he realized that he was the first one awake. He smiled as he started to take down his tent.

The old man thought that he could order them all around, and yet he wasn't even awake when they were supposed to be leaving soon. It was just another example of typical Imperial hypocrisy. They claimed that they would protect the people, and yet they threw Skyrim to the damn Thalmor.

Valund spat in disgust. He was only here for the old man's money, and the glory. If there truly was a great artifact to be had, he wanted his name to be one of the ones spoken when the tale of their exploit was shared. He continued working and had his tent completely taken down by the time Lucidius finally crawled out of his tent.

"We actually leaving this morning, old man? Or are we going to waste more time?" Valund asked mockingly.

"We're breaking camp now, Valund, though I see you've already gotten a head start on that count."

"Of course I have. You always rise at dawn while in the wilds. Guess you're getting a little old for this, eh, Imperial?" Valund sneered at Lucidius.

"Not too old, just pacing myself. We have a lot of work ahead of us."

The others started coming out of their tents. Valund stood back and watched with an amused grin on his face. The Argonian girl, Muz-Ra, he had seen wandering around Winterhold often. She was always trying to offer her services as a healer to anyone who wandered through town. She was an earnest young woman, but naïve. He couldn't believe that the Imperial had actually agreed to bring her along.

It didn't take long until they were ready to move. Valund could see the Khajiit, Ja'Rakko, or something like that, giving the old man a nasty look. It seemed odd, since Valund had gotten the distinct impression that the two older men were friends from the Legion. He watched the two old soldiers for a while, noting how they tried to avoid each other for a while, but ultimately fell into working side by side. It was then that Valund knew how well the two men knew each other, if even a fight couldn't keep them from falling into line with each other.

They finally left the campsite almost a full hour after Valund had risen. He led the way, following a game trail that he knew led to the cave they were looking for. One thing he couldn't figure out was why the old man thought something was there. He had taken cover in that selfsame cave many times to get through a particularly bad storm, and had never noticed anything special about it.

They entered almost immediately upon arriving. Once they did, both the old man and the cat seemed to stiffen up, as if they were expecting something to come up out of nowhere. Valund had been too busy laughing to himself at the two men that he didn't notice a dark shadow detach from the wall and stop him.

"Well, what have we here?" a feminine voice asked, "A whole group of people, simply walking into my arms." The shadow resolved itself into a young woman clothed in a cloak as black as the deepest midnight. Her features were soft, if a little pale for Valund's taste. Her hair was the same color as her cloak and fell to her shoulders. He couldn't deny that she was absolutely striking. The only completely unnerving feature about her was her eyes. They glowed red, as if with some inner fire.

"Lay off them, Ladia," Lucidius said, walking up to the front of the group, "You know that they're here with me."

"Of course I do. I'm simply having fun, Lucidius." The woman, Ladia, flashed a smile at the old man, the kind that Valund knew meant that he wouldn't stand a chance trying to get her. But he also noticed something disturbing in her smile; her canines were much longer than a normal person's should be.

"Step back, creature," the cat hissed, "Your kind are evil!"

"Ah, Jo'Rakha. I see that Lucidius hasn't managed to curb your bias of me," Ladia drawled. Now that Valund thought about it, her speech seemed archaic, and the cat's comment had seemed a bit off.

"Lay off, Jo!" Lucidius snapped, "She's here under my protection now! And that goes for everyone! I won't have anyone flying off and doing something stupid because you can't control your prejudices!"

"What prejudices?" Valund asked. He was surprised to hear his own voice, "What is happening here?"

The woman, Ladia, let out a laugh. It was a pure, golden sound. "So you haven't told them, Lucidius? I shouldn't be surprised. You have always tried to avoid conflict. For those of you who haven't figured it out, I'm a vampire. I was turned over five hundred years ago, so I have had a lot of time to hone my skills as a hunter of the night."

Valund heard several sharp intakes of breath, including his own. The old man, the career soldier, knew a _vampire_ on a first-name basis? And he was apparently bedding the damn thing? It simply couldn't be true.

"By the Eight," Muz-Ra swore. Valund could tell by that simple statement that the silly young girl was a devout chapelgoer, and that she thought the creature before her was the symbol of pure evil. He could also tell that she wouldn't do a damn thing about it, because she was a coward.

"Oh, by the Eight above!" Arbell practically squeaked in joy, "A real, live vampire! There is so much you can tell me! Are you actually considered undead? Do you have any special powers, beyond the obvious, of course, that we don't know about?"

Ladia turned on the Breton. "Ah, a necromancer, I see. You keep interesting company now, Lucidius. Should I be worried?"

"Of course not," the old man said, stepping towards the vampire, "Arbell, ahem, offered her services, and was rather insistent. It would have been a matter of paying her _not_ to join us."

"I see. As for your questions, Arbell, why would I reveal the secrets of my kind? That doesn't seem particularly smart to me," Ladia said, "But I will say that there is more to us than the legends tell."

"Legends are worth little," Nachael claimed. It must have been the first time that Valund had heard the Redguard's voice. It was deep and thick, fairly typical of most of the Redguards he had met. "All that matters are our experiences."

"Well spoken!" Ladia exclaimed, once again letting out that golden laugh.

"It was not meant to support you, creature. I have slain enough of your kind to know your weaknesses." He slid his longsword partway out of its sheath.

Lucidius turned on the man. "Sheath your sword, mercenary! Ladia is part of this expedition!"

Reluctantly, the Redguard sheathed his blade. "You are lucky that you have bought my loyalty, Lucidius. Normally, my honor would demand that this creature fall."

"Mercenaries as well, Lucidius? I'm surprised at you," Ladia said, smiling wildly. Valund could tell that she was enjoying the exchange.

"Sometimes we are all forced to do things we would rather not," Lucidius said, "but Nachael is an honorable man. I know I can trust him. But, to the rest of you, I hope that you will all treat Ladia with the respect of a fellow member of our group. I don't want to have to deal with a problem later on."

"Are you sure about this, Lucidius?" Muz-Ra asked, a slight waver in her voice, "Her kind are not known for their kindness."

"They are not all the same, just as not all Argonians are rebels and not all Khajiit eat moon sugar," Lucidius responded, sending a pointed look in the cat's direction.

Jo'Rakha glared back. "I will be polite only because you ask it of me, my old friend. I would sooner send an arrow through her heart than trust her however."

"Always so eloquent, Jo'Rakha. I am pleased that you were never given a command in the Legion. You would surely have gotten them all killed with your tongue," Ladia smiled.

Jo'Rakha hissed and stepped forward, pulling out his dagger, his ears folding against his skull in rage.

"Peace, Jo'Rakha! And you as well, Ladia! Just as I expect everyone to treat you with respect, I expect you to do the same to them!" Lucidius snapped.

"I can be friendly," Ladia answered, "So long as I am not expecting a knife in the back."

Jo'Rakha slowly sheathed his dagger. "You have my cooperation."

Ladia turned back to Lucidius. "I delved a short distance into the cave last night and took care of a few bandits who had set up camp deeper within. We shouldn't run into any problems for a while. I can lead you down at least that far."

The old man nodded. "Good. Take point with Valund. He knows this area quite well."

Valund nodded and stepped towards the woman, no, the vampire. "That I do. I've hunted these hills for years. I know every nook and cranny, every tree and boulder."

"Impressive, but do you know the depths as well?" the vampire asked as she started to walk, forcing everyone else to follow.

"What do you mean? I know everything there is to know around here! I've even explored this cave!" Valund retorted.

"You have? Then you know exactly how to get to this treasure that Lucidius is after?" Everyone focused their attention on Valund at that point.

"No, I don't. I know how to get deep into this cave, but it's a dead end. He must know something that I don't, which is why I signed on."

"Hmmm, then don't claim to know everything. It is our hubris that most often defeats us. That's one of the reasons many powerful vampire lords have ended up dead. They become convinced that nothing is more powerful than they, but are ultimately proven wrong. It is why I keep to the shadows."

Valund shook his head. This _thing_ hadn't been among them for more than ten minutes, and she had already tried to put him down. He followed her sullenly as she led them deeper underground, his hand resting on the haft of his axe.

As they neared the bottom of the cavern, or at least what Valund thought was the bottom, the smell of blood became strong. In the last chamber, there were bodies strewn about as if tossed by a great wind. Most had deep wounds, either in their chests or on the neck, the only exception being one man who looked to have had the life drained from his body. Valund heard a sharp intake of breath from the back of the group, and knew instinctively that it had come from the young Argonian.

They entered the chamber and Arbell, the pale Breton girl wearing chainmail and walking with the aid of a staff, which he thought odd for one as young as her, let out an excited shout. She promptly ran over to one of the bodies and started to examine it closely, immediately giving away that she didn't need to staff to walk.

Valund watched in horror as she started to size up the corpse. She pulled out a journal from her pack and started writing rapidly. It was then that Valund realized what she was. He had heard the vampire mention it, of course, but they were known for their lies. "What is with you and the dead, old man? You have a thing for it?"

Lucidius sighed. "Arbell insisted on joining us and would not take no for an answer. In complete honesty, I would rather have someone along with her knowledge and skill with a blade than to have to do without. As for Ladia, well, I don't think anyone can tell her what to do."

"You have that right, my love," Ladia replied, her voice like silk. Valund noticed Jo'Rakha wince at the term. "So do you know where we are to go from here?"

"I believe so," Lucidius answered, pulling out a battered journal. He opened it up and started to read. "The accounts I found claimed that there was a portal hidden down here that would lead to the ancient city of Aszlechtand. I'm guessing it must be beneath the ice."

"Wait, we're looking for a dwarven city?" Valund protested, "I don't think you understand what you're getting yourself into, old man. Those things are simply crawling with danger!"

"Look around you, Valund," Lucidius pointed out, "And tell me what you see. There is a reason I chose the people I did to join me. I know what I am doing. I have served the Empire for long enough to know when I am walking into danger."

Valund did as he was bid, even if the request had been rhetorical. As the old man had said, everyone in the group, with the exception of Muz-Ra, looked to be a seasoned and skilled warrior. "So if we need to get to this portal, how are we getting through the ice?"

Lucidius turned to Muz-Ra and Arbell. "I know the both of you have skills in destruction magic. Is there any way you can melt the ice?"

Arbell laughed. "Of course I can. I wasn't one of the Legion's best spellswords for no reason, you know." That comment turned Valund's head. She had been in the Legion? He could understand the cat and the old man. Hell, the old man still wore his armor, and the cat's pack was embroidered with the Legion's banner, but Arbell wore only simple chainmail. Nothing of what she carried showed any sign of having been associated with the Legion at all.

"I can help as well," Muz-Ra claimed, stepping forward to stand beside the Breton.

Lucidius nodded and looked into his journal, often glancing around the room. After a few minutes of tense silence he looked up and stared directly at one of the walls that was completely encased in ice. "That one."

The two mages nodded and stepped forward, motioning everyone to get behind them. They took a moment to ready themselves, then cast their spells, throwing thick cones of flame into the wall. The blast back of heat pulled the air from Valund's lungs, forcing him to cough and wheeze as he struggled for breath. By the time he could finally breathe again, the two mages had successfully melted enough of the snow and ice to reveal enough of a large dwarven door that they would be able to push it aside and get through.

"Well done!" Lucidius exclaimed, stepping forward, "Jo, help me with this!" The two old soldiers approached the opening and leaned their weight against it. As they pushed, the door slowly ground open. They forced it far enough apart for everyone to squeeze through, then stood back, panting, their breath forming small clouds in the cold air.

Valund watched the portal warily. An odd smell was coming from within. He couldn't place what it was, but it simply didn't feel natural. No matter what the old man said, he couldn't be prepared to face what they would find down there.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Arbell smile to herself in self-satisfaction as she watched Lucidius and Jo'Rakha force the dwemer door open. She wasn't surprised that the other two legionnaires mistrusted her, or that most of the group mistrusted her. It was one of the consequences of choosing to study what she did. It wasn't her problem that none of them could see the valuable intricacies of necromancy.

At first she had thought that she would be the only person of controversy in their small group, but now she was just another skilled individual after the appearance of Ladia. Arbell couldn't fathom why everyone seemed so wary of her, however. She was a vampire, sure, but she seemed civil, unlike most of those marauding madmen who preyed on travelers, and they could still claim to be alive.

As Arbell watched Ladia, she found her hand drifting unconsciously to the hilt of her sword. When she caught it, she crossed her arms across her chest, forcing her hands under her armpits. It seemed that even she was not immune to the prejudices and preconceptions of the living, even after her years of working with the dead. She was completely enraptured by the vampire, since she was one of the first creatures that she had ever come across who was not a bloodthirsty monster, and the only one who was not actively trying to kill her. That deserved a great deal of respect.

After getting the door open, Lucidius and Jo'Rakha took a moment to catch their breath, then motioned for everyone to start through the door. "I'd rather get down there as quickly as possible. Who knows what changes nightfall would bring," was Lucidius' explanation.

"I will scout out ahead," Ladia announced as she stepped towards the portal, but the Nord, Valund, lunged forward and caught her arm.

"No you ain't! I was hired as the guide and that is what I will do!" he announced stubbornly. Ladia stepped aside, allowing him to pass, a bemused expression on her face. Arbell detected a slight waver to the Nord's voice. He acted tough, but it wasn't hard to see how afraid he truly was. The poor fool was completely out of his depth.

Arbell wondered at his insistence. It seemed as if he was trying to impress the vampire, even when it was obvious that she and Lucidius were an item. There was every chance he didn't even notice what he was doing.

He stepped through the portal first. Everyone waited in silence for him to call out that it was clear. After nearly five minutes, he did so. Arbell waited until almost everyone had crawled through the hole. Only Muz-Ra, the young, naïve Argonian woman from Winterhold, stood waiting for her.

"Are you coming?" she asked plaintively. Unlike the Nord, this one did not hide her fear. Arbell respected that, because the girl had the courage to follow them, despite it.

"Of course, just letting everyone feel out the area first. I'm here as support, not for the front line."

"But you have that," Muz-Ra said, pointing at Arbell's sword.

Arbell laughed. "Of course I do. I wouldn't be much of a spellsword without my blade, now would I? I simply prefer the use of my magic over the use of my blade. Now, if you would be willing to help me, I need to get this body through that hole." Arbell pointed to one of the fallen bandits. The one she wanted was a large Orc wearing a full set of steel armor and a massive greatsword lying a few feet away. It looked like he had been killed by having his throat cut.

Muz-Ra recoiled at the request. "What? Why do you need that?" She took a step back from Arbell, eyeing her warily. It seemed what little trust she had gained was gone.

"Oh come now, you lived at the College of Winterhold. Surely you know that necromancy is no longer frowned upon. Besides which, the reanimated do not have the dexterity required to crawl through such small openings. So, I need to push him through. I would really appreciate the help."

Muz-Ra remained silent as her gaze flicked from Arbell to the corpse. Arbell shifted her weight and rested her free hand on her hip, her other hand coiled around the polished wood of her staff. It was molded in the shape of a golden dragon's head. Arbell had owned it for years, ever since she had wrested it from the cold dead grasp of a Thalmor spellcaster. The young Argonian finally nodded and moved towards the fallen Orc.

Arbell smiled and slid the staff into a loop of fabric on her back specifically designed to hold it. Together, the two women lifted the heavy bandit and maneuvered him towards the hole. Just as they arrived, Arbell heard Lucidius call for them. "Are you two coming?" His answer was the Orc's corpse tumbling through the hole.

"What the hell is that!" he swore, accompanied by the sound of clattering armor as he jumped back.

"Just some extra protection," Arbell answered as she went to retrieve the Orc's greatsword. While she did that, Muz-Ra clambered through the hole. Arbell tossed the sword after her, then climbed through. On the other side, the rest of the expedition stood in a rough semi-circle, casting disturbing glances at both her and the corpse.

"Oh come now, are all of you really that surprised?" she asked disbelievingly, "It's not like I kept my skills a secret!"

"I was expecting you to be a bit more subtle," Lucidius complained, "rather than flaunt your skills."

"Necromancy is hardly a talent of subtlety. Now you can all start onward. I shall join you momentarily. I just need a moment to work," Arbell said, waving the rest of the group onward.

Lucidius shrugged and started to walk. The others followed suit. The Nord, Valund, was the last to turn away, and Arbell could not say that she liked the look she saw in his features as he did. It wasn't one of fear, or even disgust, but rather one of hunger. For some reason, Arbell felt like the man didn't care about the fact that she was a necromancer, and all he saw was that she was a female other than the vampire.

Pushing the thoughts from her mind, Arbell focused on the corpse at her feet. She concentrated, and felt the magicka begin to course through her body, filling her with its power. She focused the power into her palms, and watched as dark shadows began to form with small wisps of energy weaving about her fingers. When the power reached the point where Arbell felt that she could burst, she released it, directing it towards the fallen corpse. As the magic left her, she felt weaker, but only momentarily as the power recharged itself.

The shadows struck the corpse, and it twitched. Slowly, the Orc shifted as the power took over control of its limbs. It got to its feet, moaning at the strain. The Orc was a fine specimen of his species. He was at least six and a half feet tall, and must have weighed almost two hundred and fifty pounds, all of it muscle. His green skin shone in the dim torchlight of the dwarven ruin, almost reflecting the shine of the bronze door. The zombie knelt over and lifted the greatsword then stood and waited for Arbell to start walking. It would follow her until the spell powering it ran out. At that point it would dissolve into ash, but Arbell had cast a very powerful spell on it: one that should last for several hours.

Arbell smiled as she followed after the rest of the group. She found them a short distance ahead, stopped by a large portal. Jo'Rakha was knelt at the lock mechanism, hard at work to open it.

"We're not even a hundred yards into the damn ruin, and we've already been stopped by a sealed door!" Valund complained, "Please tell me how any of this is going to get better!"

"We're prepared for this, Valund," Lucidius assured the Nord, "Jo'Rakha is among the best at breaking and entering that I have ever met, and he brought a healthy supply of picks along. Besides, the dwemer were only known for sealing the main entrances to their delvings, as well as the containers of their greatest treasures. Most everything else was left open."

"So we won't even get a good chance at loot," the Nord said, obviously disappointed.

"We aren't here for loot," Lucidius shot back angrily, "We have to remain focused on our goal. Only that way will we all make it through in one piece. These ruins are dangerous, and not just because of the passage of time. The dwemer built their traps to last."

Valund grumbled something unflattering in response, which Lucidius wisely chose to ignore. The two men fell silent and watched Jo'Rakha work. Within a few minutes, Arbell heard a soft click from the door.

The Khajiit stood. "Rusted it may have been, but even that is no match for me," he said, smiling as he pocketed his tools.

Lucidius nodded slowly and gestured to Nachael. "Take point, mercenary. I'll follow behind you with Valund and Ladia. Arbell and Jo'Rakha will come in next for support. Muz-Ra, take up the rear. We'll move swiftly and carefully. With luck, we'll reach our goal without any opposition."

The Redguard nodded and drew his sword. The sound of it unsheathing echoed loudly in the passageway. He stepped forward and slowly pushed the door open. He crept forward, moving slowly and watching every corner of the room. All seemed quiet as they advanced, but Arbell heard a skittering sound as they reached the center of the room.

Around the edges of the chamber were tall bronze structures that had rounded tops that contained what seemed to be small spiral doors. These opened and several bronze, skittering forms burst out of the darkness and approached the Redguard. They came at him from several different directions, but he stood his ground, sword lifted and waited for them to approach.

Arbell stood at the ready, her sword in hand, and magic gathered in her staff. She didn't even remember drawing it. As she watched, one of the small creatures launched itself at the Redguard's back. Somehow, Arbell didn't know how, Nachael sensed it coming. He spun and cleaved the thing cleanly in two. Something inside the creature sparked as his sword passed through it, making Arbell think that the things weren't actually alive. Trust the dwemer to have made some sort of machine to protect their delvings.

Nachael spun gracefully in the center of the attacking horde of spidery creatures, quickly and easily dismantling them as they attacked. Lucidius stood behind his shield, using it to ward the spiders off and thrusting at them with his blade. Even Ladia was quickly and efficiently destroying the things, blasting some with flames from her hands and simply tearing others apart with her shortsword.

Valund, on the other hand, was struggling. He already had several lacerations from the spiders, and they were starting to swarm him as he swung wildly with his axe. Arbell sighed and lashed out with her staff, sending a spike of ice clean through one of the spiders. She advanced slowly, holding her staff in front of her and keeping her sword ready to swing.

As she neared the main group, several of the spiders left their attack and focused on her. They skittered forward, only to run into the heavy blade of the Orc zombie following Arbell. It had lunged forward into the mass of spiders and started swinging, destroying several of the things with every swing of its sword. It completely ignored any wounds inflicted on it, simply attacking any of the spiders that came within its reach.

Some of the spiders ignored even the zombie and continued straight ahead, towards Arbell. She readied herself, sending another charge into her staff and bringing her blade forward. Two of the spiders leapt at the same time. Arbell sent an ice spike at one and swung her blade at the other. Before the steel of her sword could impact, Arbell felt something whiz past her ear and imbed itself in a small crystal set into the front of the spider. Instead of lunging at her, it simply fell limp to the ground, an arrow cleanly piercing the crystal.

Arbell threw a glance backwards and saw Jo'Rakha standing, his bow drawn back with another arrow ready to fly. He released, sending the arrow almost straight at Arbell. She dodged reflexively, but the arrow sailed cleanly past her to strike another spider, this one in the process of lunging at Valund. The Khajiit shot a glance at Arbell, as if to say 'we have a job to do, get to it.'

Arbell nodded at him, then turned back to face the fight. A few more shots of ice from her staff, and a few more frantic moments of hand-to-hand combat, and all of the spiders were taken out of commission, the floor was littered with their remains. In the sudden aftermath of the fight, everything was completely silent. Arbell could hear Lucidius panting. He was old to still be fighting, no matter what he said.

Valund groaned and slumped to the floor, clutching at several deep gashes in his flesh. Lucidius shot a glance at the fallen Nord, then turned to where Muz-Ra stood at the back of the group. "Help him if you can," he said simply before turning to see to the rest of the group.

The Argonian shot past Arbell and knelt beside the fallen Nord. She concentrated for a moment, then a soft white light spread from her hands to engulf Valund. Arbell watched as his flesh knit itself together under Muz-Ra's ministrations. It took scarcely two minutes until every last wound was closed. Arbell had to admit, she was impressed. Perhaps the young woman would be worth more than she thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Muz-Ra gently let the light of her magic fade. Valund had been badly hurt, but she had healed far worse damage than what he had suffered. She carefully checked where his wounds had been before allowing the man to stand. When he did, he shoved her roughly aside.

"Get off me, woman!" he snapped, "Don't know a damn thing about personal space!"

"What? I'm sorry, I was just trying to help…" Muz-Ra trailed off, a hurt look on her face.

"Enough, Valund!" Lucidius snapped, "She just saved your life! So you can either show her the gratitude she deserves, or you can leave!"

Valund shot Lucidius a dirty look, but kept his mouth shut. Muz-Ra backed off, retreating back to the rear of the group, trying to get away from the sour Nord. Since she was walking backward, she didn't notice Arbell standing right behind her and walked right into the young Breton.

"Watch yourself!" she announced, gently pushing the Argonian aside, "You need to pay more attention!"

"Sorry," Muz-Ra muttered, "I don't like conflict like this. I don't understand why people always need to be so hateful." It was an issue she had struggled with her entire life. She had been born in a small village in Black Marsh, but had left because her parents had wanted her to get involved in the local resistance against their regional warlord. The conflict had frightened the young Argonian, and she had fled to Skyrim to get away from it. The College at Winterhold had been the first place to accept her for who she was.

"It's just the way the world works," Arbell stated simply, shrugging, "You either accept it and survive, or you let it consume you. I'm sure you must have run into something similar at the College."

Muz-Ra thought for a moment, then nodded. "There was one new student who came by recently. He was a Khajiit named J'Zargo who's only goal was to became the greatest master of destruction alive. He pushed me aside the first time we met, saying I was just getting in his way, and that my skills were not even useful."

"That sounds like every new mage that has ever been," Arbell laughed, "But it looks like you have done well enough for yourself despite all of that."

Muz-Ra simply shrugged in response, "I just keep to myself. This expedition was my first chance to really get out into the world and accomplish something for myself. I'm happy Lucidius agreed to let me come along."

"With a healer of your obvious talent, I'm not surprised he agreed. I won't lie, I thought you wouldn't be much use to us, but with the route it looks like we're taking, we're really going to need your skills."

"What do you mean?" Muz-Ra cocked her head in confusion, "It's just a dwarven ruin. Sure, their old automatons are dangerous, but we can handle them."

Arbell laughed at that claim. "You're right that the automatons aren't the real threat, but how much do you know of the ancient history of this part of the world?"

"Not much, I must admit. Why? Is there something about these ruins?"

"All right, we're all clear here! Let's keep moving!" Lucidius called out, interrupting the conversation, "Same formation! Keep your eyes peeled for any movement at all! We don't want to be taken by surprise. The denizens of the deeper parts of the world are natural ambushers."

Muz-Ra shot Arbell a look as they resumed their journey. The necromancer nodded knowingly. "There is far more down here than old dwemer technology."

Muz-Ra felt her heart skip a beat as the implications dawned on her. She was beginning to seriously doubt her insistence on joining the expedition. It seems as though the old Legionnaire was simply leading them into unbelievable danger for some treasure that he hadn't even been able to define.

She hung at the back of the group as they moved swiftly through the ruins. Twice more they ran into swarms of the small spidery automatons. Both times the experienced soldiers dropped into a tight circle and covered each other against the onslaught while the members of the expedition more suited to ranged attacks stayed back by the doors and fired into the swarm. Arbell stayed slightly in front to keep the spiders from getting too close. After the battles, Muz-Ra would make her rounds of everyone and check for wounds, healing any she found, no matter how severe or trivial.

They progressed quickly, delving into the deepest parts of the ruined dwarven city until they finally came into a chamber that was bare excepting a short, wide block of stone placed in the exact center of the room. The walls were adorned with the same bronze structures from which the spiders had spilled in other rooms.

The top of the stone was inlayed with intricate bronze designs, all radiating out from the center, which seemed like it was designed to hold some sort of spherical object. Lucidius cautiously approached the stone, sword drawn and ready. Nachael followed him closely, his head snapping to the bronze structures on the walls, as if he was expecting something to leap out at them.

Ladia remained at the back with Muz-Ra and Arbell as Jo'Rakha walked up to join his old friend. Everyone was watching the room carefully, except for Lucidius, who was focused on the stone, and Valund, who was wandering obliviously around the room, not really focusing on anything.

Muz-Ra was watching the Nord when one of the spiral doors opened and a featureless sphere rolled out to land at Valund's feet. The Nord jumped back in shock, letting out an alarmed yell, but immediately started to laugh as he examined the sphere. He pulled out his axe and lightly tapped the outside of the sphere, letting out a hollow ringing sound.

All eyes were focused on the Nord as he toyed with the sphere. "I don't think you should be doing that," Nachael intoned warily, edging closer to the Nord.

Valund shot him a dirty look, then continued playing with the sphere. Suddenly, it split down the middle, and, as the two halved separated, a tall bronze figure emerged from the sphere. It was shaped roughly like a humanoid, except for the fact that the two halves of the sphere were its form of movement. One of its arms was an extravagant crossbow, and the other ended in a sharp blade. The figure needed less than a second to round on the surprised Nord and drive its blade straight through his chest.

Muz-Ra cried out in horror as she saw the point of the thing's blade emerge from between Valund's shoulder blades. His tunic was swiftly stained a deep red. Muz-Ra swore that she could hear him wheezing for a breath that wouldn't come. The thing withdrew its blade, and the Nord fell limply to the ground. Muz-Ra immediately dashed forward to the fallen Nord and called her magic to life, bathing his limp form in golden light.

Nachael called out in alarm as he saw the young woman jump forward. He placed himself between her and the dwarven device, his sword coming up just in time to block a blow aimed for the Argonian.

Muz-Ra had eyes only for Valund as she poured every bit of magic she had into his body. She could dully hear the sounds of battle as the rest of the expedition fought to subdue the violent automaton. Judging from the sound, Muz-Ra would have guessed that several more of the things had appeared and were joining the fight, but she could care less. All she had to do was pour a little more energy into Valund, and he would be okay. She could already see the vicious wound beginning to mend.

She felt her reserves of magicka run out as her spell flickered and died. She immediately reached into her robes, drew out a magicka potion and threw it back. Power flooded back into her and she immediately renewed the spell, pouring even more energy into the Nord's limp frame.

After what seemed like hours of this, Muz-Ra felt someone grab her shoulder and pull her away. She looked up, feeling an uncharacteristic surge of anger at having her work interrupted as she was thrown clear of the fight. She turned her head back to Valund's body just in time to see Arbell's zombie step into the path of a blow that had been meant for her. The dwarven sphere's blade slid easily into the zombie's flesh, spearing its heart. The Orc shuddered before disintegrating into a pile of glowing ash.

Muz-Ra stood and slowly started walking back to Valund's fallen body. She knew that, with just a little more effort, she could save him. She was violently shoved back and her gaze was met with Arbell glaring into her eyes. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" the Breton snapped angrily, "Stay out of the fight so you can help us later!"

"I need to help him," Muz-Ra said dully, "I can save him." She pushed against the Breton, trying to walk by her, but was violently pushed back. Arbell spun around and slashed at a sphere with her sword, while simultaneously firing ice spikes at it with her staff. The ice knocked the sphere back just far enough for her sword to connect with its head, shearing it clean off. She then spun around to glare at Muz-Ra again.

"He's already dead, okay! Wandering into the middle of the battle won't help anyone! Stay there where you're safe!" She then turned back to the battle, but sheathed her sword. A shadow seemed to gather around Arbell as she gathered in magicka for a spell, then cast it towards Valund's fallen form. His body jerked as the spell hit him, then slowly pulled itself to its feet, moaning.

Muz-Ra watched in horror as the person she had tried to save was reanimated before her eyes. She turned her gaze to the rest of the group and saw Lucidius fending of several of the sphere's with his shield with Jo'Rakha fighting fiercely at his back with a wicked short sword. Nachael was a spinning form of death as his blade broke the spheres into scrap metal with every swing.

Ladia was deftly moving from sphere to sphere, swinging at anything that came into range. However, despite her graceful movements, Muz-Ra could see blood flowing down her arm from a bad flesh wound. As she focused her gaze, she could see that everyone had some sort of serious injury, and all were fighting desperately, simply trying to survive the onslaught.

Muz-Ra was just coming to a decision of how to act when a sphere reared up before her, twisting slightly to bring its blade to bear. She felt her breath catch in her throat. She acted instinctively, her hands coming up in self-defense as her mind reached out for the arcane power that fueled her magic. A cone of flame leapt to life from her palms, consuming the sphere in its heat and reducing it to a heap of super-heated metal.

As suddenly as it had begun, the fight was over. The last sphere dropped to the ground, beheaded by a vicious crosscut from Nachael. Muz-Ra cast about the room in the aftermath, looking to see if anyone else had fallen. As she looked, she saw that Valund was missing. A second pile of ash lay on the ground beside Lucidius, however, showing where the zombie had fallen.

Lucidius fell heavily to the ground, clutching at his injured sword arm. Muz-Ra immediately ran to his side and called her magic into being, pouring the soft golden light into the wound. The old Legionnaire sighed in relief as his flesh knit together, the Argonian's magic healing the wound.

Muz-Ra repeated the process with everyone, using three more of her magicka potions in the process. It took nearly ten minutes, but finally, everyone was fit once more.

Lucidius stood shakily and took in all the members of his expedition. The expression on his face was doubtful, as though he was beginning to doubt bringing them all down here. He watched them silently for several moments before speaking. "I know what most of you are thinking. We are barely even into our expedition, and already one of us has fallen. I saw Muz-Ra give everything she had to save him, but even that was not enough. We still have a long way to go, and we have not yet reached the most dangerous parts of our journey. If any of you wish to turn and leave, I don't blame you. I know I would."

Everyone stared at Lucidius in stunned silence. Muz-Ra couldn't imagine why he would even think they would back out now. She was still horrified that she had been unable to save Valund, but no one could deny that the man had been an idiot, and that it had been his actions alone that had gotten him killed.

"One man's idiocy is not enough to dissuade me," Ladia announced, and stepped forward to stand by Lucidius' side. He gave the vampire a grateful look, then turned his gaze back to the rest of the group. "I know that many of you distrust me merely because of what I am, but I have not threatened any of you. Lucidius still needs your aid. Would you come this far to simply turn back!" He gaze was accusing and stared straight to Muz-Ra's soul. She felt herself needing to agree with the other woman, and stepped forward.

"I won't turn away," she announced, "I failed once already. I won't let it happen again." With that announcement, the others stepped forward in agreement.

Lucidius hung his head, though Muz-Ra couldn't tell if it was in thanks or in shame. He nodded slowly, then lifted his gaze again, "Thank you, everyone. You don't realize what your support means to me. Now let us continue on. We still have quite a ways to go." He turned back to the stone block and pulled a small sphere from his pack. He gingerly set it into the abscess and twisted it slightly before letting go.

After a moment of inaction, the stones around the base of the block began to shift and sink, forming a stairway spiraling down around it. Lucidius waited until the stones had stopped moving to retrieve the sphere, then started down the stairs. Muz-Ra waited as everyone began the descent, staring down at her hands. Despite the fire that had sprung from them not five minutes before, they were still covered in blood. Valund's' blood. She sighed and followed after the others.

At the bottom of a stairway was another large door. Unlike the others they had come across, this one had no intricate carvings or designs in its surface. It was a simple, featureless portal. Muz-Ra was discomforted by the sight of the door. "Why doesn't this one have any designs?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"Because even the dwarves feared this place enough that they spent no time carving beauty into the door," Ladia said as Lucidius pushed the door open.

{Apologies for the delay. School has been extremely busy these last few days, and I've had a ton of exams to study for.}


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

The portal opened into the largest cavern that Jo'Rakha had ever laid eyes on. The far wall was far beyond the range of even his sharp vision, and the ones he could see sloped up to a ceiling that was so high as to be invisible in the shadows. The landscape before him, or at least what little of it he could make out in the gloom, was made up of masses of gray rock that were broken up by glowing fungi that provided just enough light for the members of the group that couldn't see in the dark to see by. What could only be old dwarven structures dotted the landscape as well.

As they started forward, Jo'Rakha noticed that there was much more light being provided than could be accounted for by the fungi alone. He cast about in confusion, clutching his bow tightly enough that he could feel splinters digging into the rough skin of his palm, and quickly found his answer. A massive glowing sphere hung in the air some distance away, shining almost as brightly as the sun through a thick cloudbank, providing a surprising amount of light.

"Where are we? This doesn't look like a dwarven ruin," Muz-Ra stammered, her voice shaking with fear.

Jo'Rakha was surprised that she was still with them, and that she was still functioning at all. She was a pampered College mage who had very little experience with the outside world, and yet she had thrown herself at this expedition. He wasn't going to lie; her skills as a healer were invaluable, but she didn't have the temperament to survive here. But she had a determination that he hadn't seen in a long time, and the young mage deserved his respect for that.

"It is called Blackreach, and it is the last bastion of the Falmer people," Ladia announced sadly, "Now all that is left of the once-beautiful Snow Elves are twisted hulks that know nothing but hatred."

"Snow Elves? I've never heard of them," the Argonian woman muttered.

Jo'Rakha laughed out loud. He couldn't help himself. "And how long have you been living in Skyrim?" he asked, turning to look at the young Argonian, "How could you live here and not learn something of its ancient inhabitants? Even I have heard of the Falmer. Granted, they were just cub's tales meant to frighten, but even so, I have heard of them."

Muz-Ra gave him a hurt look. "I kept to myself and my studies. Chasing old stories and tales had nothing to do with what I was learning."

"Be quiet back there!" Lucidius snapped, "The Falmer are blind, not deaf! They'll be able to hear us from clear across Blackreach if you keep up your racket!" As if to punctuate his point, Jo'Rakha heard an inhuman shriek and several crude arrows started flying through the air.

Everyone dove to cover. Jo'Rakha instinctively nocked and arrow, stood up, and fired in the direction of the enemy projectiles. He was rewarded with a pained shriek, but as he dodged back behind his rock, something struck him in the chest with enough force to drive the air from his lungs.

He sat motionless for a moment, already feeling an unnatural warmth springing from his chest, trying to regain his breath, then looked down. An arrow with crude fletching had pierced through his leather jerkin to imbed itself in his flesh.

He tried to take in a breath, but found himself almost unable to do so. He put a hand up to the wound and breathed again. To his horror, he felt air escaping around the shaft of the arrow as he breathed. It had pierced his lung. In that moment, he knew he was dead. No amount of healing magic was going to change that, but he would be able to survive for a while if he could just cover up the wound. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Jo'Rakha snapped the shaft of the arrow. Warm blood immediately began to flow out from under his jerkin. He reached into his pack and pulled out an old shirt. He ripped off a sleeve and stuffed it under the jerkin to pad the wound. It would serve as a primitive bandage for now.

He nocked another arrow and leaned out of cover again, pushing the pain from his mind as he had done so many times during the war. He was met with the sight of several deathly pale figures in chitinous armor scurrying over the landscape towards them. He quickly sighted on one of the advancing Falmer and loosed the arrow. It flew true and struck the creature square in the throat. Aiming for the head would have been useless, as it was covered almost entirely by a shell-like helmet that looked like the carapace of some giant insect. Thick, dark blood spurted from the arrow wound, and the creature fell to the ground, dead.

Jo'Rakha saw several other projectiles flying through the air from his group as he nocked and loosed another arrow, killing another Falmer. Most of the projectiles were ice spikes fired from Arbell's staff, but there were quite a few fireballs coming from Ladia's direction as well. He ignored the distractions and focused on releasing one arrow after the other at the advancing creatures. Luckily, most weren't carrying shields and fell swiftly. The few that managed to approach their position were met by Lucidius and Nachael, who managed to quickly dispatch them with a few precise blows. For all their ferocity, the creatures had very little combat ability.

Another shriek pierced the darkness and Jo'Rakha heard a skittering sound come towards them. He nocked an arrow and leaned out of cover, taking careful aim. What met his gaze was something straight out of his nightmares. The bugs were large, coming up almost to his shoulder and were about four feet long. They walked on six spindly legs, and their heads were topped with what appeared to be razor-sharp pincers. He released the arrow, but, to his dismay, it simply bounced off of its natural armor.

"Chaurus!" Ladia announced, then launched a fireball directly into the face of one of the bugs. It burst into flames, squirming on the ground as its head was consumed. She dashed forward, dodged around the pincers of one as it lunged at her, leapt atop its back, and plunged her shortsword into a gap between the armor. It writhed violently, trying to toss the vampire, as a thick ichor oozed out of the deep wound. Ladia worked her blade, widening the wound, then thrust a burst of flame through the hole. The creature shuddered one last time, then lay still.

Jo'Rakha launched another arrow at a third chaurus, managing to stick one between plates of its chitinous armor. It shrieked in pain and starting skittering towards him. He started backing up, nocking another arrow, and loosed it, but again, it simply bounced off its armor. In desperation, he dropped his bow and pulled out his own sword, just as the chaurus leapt at him and drove him to the ground. He thrust upwards as it lowered its head towards his face and was surprised when his blade pierced the armor and slid up into the bug's head. It shuddered and collapsed on top of him. Its full weight drove what little air was still in his lungs out, and he started gasping for breath as he struggled to wrestle it off of himself.

The pain from his wound returned in full force, and the old Khajiit had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out. It took all of his concentration to free himself from the Chaurus, and by the time he had managed to free himself, the skirmish had died down as the Falmer retreated into the darkness. He lay motionless on the ground, simply trying to catch his breath. His wound burned as though it was on fire, and the pain consumed his thoughts. It took a great deal of effort to push the pain back from his conscious thoughts, but he managed it and slowly pulled himself to his feet. He grunted in pain, and Muz-Ra was instantly by his side.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her healing spell ready in her free hand as she clutched his shoulder and tried to look him in the eye.

Jo'Rakha pushed her aside. It wouldn't do to get her hopes up. "I'm fine," he growled, "See to the others."

"But, you're bleeding!" She pointed to the hole in his armor that was sluggishly seeping blood from the bandage beneath and moved to investigate it.

He stubbornly pushed her away. "It's just a flesh wound. I've had worse. See to the others, they may actually need your help. I'll be fine."

A hurt look overcame her features, but she nodded and turned to the others. True to Jo'Rakha's prediction, several of the others did need her help. Nachael had taken a nasty gash to his chest, and Lucidius had nearly had his shield arm taken off. Both were the kinds of wounds that healing magic excelled in treating. Repairing damaged organs, however, was beyond the young woman.

Jo'Rakha made his way over to Lucidius once Muz-Ra was done with him. "So where to from here?" he asked his old friend pointedly. He didn't care that he was going to die. He had been dying slowly for the last ten years since the Legion had released him. He simply hoped that his last act would help his oldest friend. To his annoyance, Ladia came up behind him and addressed the old Imperial as well.

"This was only a test of our strength. They will be back soon, and in greater numbers. We need to move, quickly," the vampire announced, wiping dark blood off of her blade.

Lucidius nodded at her and turned to Jo'Rakha. "You see the glowing orb?" He pointed to the biggest source of light in the cavern that Jo'Rakha had noticed when they first entered.

"Yeah, I see it. We need to head that way?"

Lucidius nodded gravely, "I expect that this is also where these things are making their home. It's the largest existing settlement down here, and it is definitely where I would go to live. We're looking for a structure like a tower that will take us up to the surface. My guess is that it is somewhere in that complex."

Jo'Rakha turned his gaze towards the city beneath the globe. He studied it carefully for a few moments, looking for something similar to what Lucidius had just described. After a few minutes of searching, he spotted it and pointed. "There. I see a pillar that extends from the ground all the way to the roof of the cavern. That must be it."

Lucidius followed Jo'Rakha's gaze, then nodded. "Looks that way. Nachael, lead the way. I'll be right behind you."

The mercenary nodded and started to walk, picking a path through the jagged rocks towards the sunken city. The rest of the group fell into step behind him. Jo'Rakha noticed Ladia shoot a sad look towards Lucidius.

Jo'Rakha frowned and made his way over to her. "What do you see in him, hmm?" he hissed, unable to contain his dislike for her. He had never been able to place the source of his hatred. It was for more than just the fact of what she was, and it was also for more than his belief that she was simply toying with his friend, but he had never been able to identify it.

Ladia shifted her gaze to Jo'Rakha, and her expression was obvious. She was tired of arguing with him. "He reminds me of myself, before… everything. Eager to please everyone he was close to, and unwilling to let anything stop him from his goals," she explained, "Is that not enough?"

Jo'Rakha snorted, "Not for me. You would show up once every five years and spend a month or two with him, then disappear again! Because of you he never had a chance for a normal family life!"

"And yet I notice that you never raised a family either, Jo'Rakha," Ladia shot back, fire in her eyes.

"That's because there is no one out there for someone like me. I was born and raised in Leyawiin, an Imperial town known for its Khajiit and Argonian population, and yet we were still unwelcome. Every member of my people there was twisted by the hatred of the nobles of the city, which is why I left in the first place! To the tribals of Elsweyr, I am an outsider, having never been raised amongst a clan or in one of our ancient cities. And I have never crossed paths with a traveling clan, but I would still be considered an outsider to them. I never formed a family because I have never been given the opportunity to!

Lucidius still had a chance, but you took that from him! How does that show that you care about him! You toy with his emotions, as if you have some sort of privilege over him! Then you lie and say you care about him, and leave for another five years!"

Ladia made a sound not unlike a hiss and rounded on the Khajiit, "And did you not lie to Muz-Ra when you claimed that your wound was minor?" she snapped, "Don't lie to me, Jo'Rakha, I can see your life ebbing away. It won't be long before your body will no longer be able to sustain itself. Just pray that it happens before you hurt your friend any more than you already have." The vampire turned and walked away, leaving Jo'Rakha to ponder her remark.

He put very little thought into it, marking it down as her simply trying to drive him away from his friend. It was odd that she could tell that he was dying, but he had never done anything to distance himself from Lucidius. He had always been honest about his dislike of Ladia, and Lucidius accepted that. Sure, they argued, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Jo'Rakha would have been more worried had the old Imperial started agreeing with him.

They slowed their pace as they approached the sunken city. Jo'Rakha could now make out its outer walls, and they were now traversing a discernible road that looked like it led towards a large archway that should allow them entry into the city. Nachael brought the group to a stop a few hundred yards short. Jo'Rakha made his way to the front of the group. "Why are we stopping?" he asked.

"That," the mercenary answered, pointing. Jo'Rakha looked to where the Redguard was pointing. There was a small bronze arch erected by the roadside which contained the massive form of some dwemer creation. It was humanoid, in the sense that it had two arms, two legs, and a head, but its arms ended in weapons, and it looked as though it was built for war.

"What is it?" Muz-Ra asked, "I've never seen anything like it."

"My guess would be a Centurion. They were among the greatest creations of the dwemer, at least, insofar as technology of war goes," Arbell explained, "We don't want to wake that thing up. Trust me."

Jo'Rakha turned to look at the woman. He appreciated her prowess in combat, but her behavior annoyed him. She was headstrong and cocky, two traits that were likely to lead to both her death, and the deaths of everyone following her. The only reason he had pushed for her to join them was because he had seen her skill on the field of battle. When she wasn't given a Command, she performed well, but she was incapable of leading soldiers. "Then we will avoid waking it. Let's keep moving. If we're careful and quiet, we should be safe."

The mercenary nodded and started forward again. Everyone was dead silent as they passed by the Centurion, and everyone was watching it carefully. It stood motionless, head staring off into the distance as they passed. Had they been watching the road instead, the tragedy could have been avoided.

They just passed its resting place when Nachael stepped on a hidden pressure plate. He noticed it too late and was struck by a Falmer claw trap. Jo'Rakha watched in horror as one of the sharpened pincers emerged from the mercenary's back, forcing a shout of pain from the Redguard. The shout echoed loudly in the cavern, which prompted a volley from the Falmer archers on the wall of the sunken city. Three arrows struck Nachael squarely in the chest, forcing him to finally collapse, his body being held up by the claws on the trap.

Jo'Rakha was just beginning to return fire when he heard the sound of grinding metal coming from behind them. He turned to see the centurion emerge from its housing and begin lumbering towards them. The Khajiit took aim and loosed an arrow at the centurion's head. His arrow lodged in its neck joint, but there was no indication that the arrow was anything more than an annoyance. "Muz-Ra, behind you!" he shouted as he loosed another arrow, pushing his way back towards the Argonian.

Instead of moving to the side, she turned to look, and was surprised when the Centurion lunged forward, impaling the young mage on the blade that made up its right hand.

"No!" Jo'Rakha shouted as he fired again, imbedding an arrow in the Centurion's chest. It staggered back, arm dipping enough for Muz-Ra to slide limply from the blade, blood staining the blade and pooling on the ground around her body.

Jo'Rakha hissed angrily and dropped his bow, drawing his blade as he dashed forward. "You will not take her!" he hissed as he dodged around a sweep of its sword and brought his blade down, severing an important looking tube that connected the blade to the rest of the arm. He got a face full of burning steam for his efforts, but the Centurion appeared unable to lift the arm. Unfortunately, it had another, and swung it at Jo'Rakha. This arm was topped with a heavy hammer, and the Khajiit barely managed to jump out of the way before being smashed to a paste.

He dashed inside the Centurion's reach again and slashed at its head. His sword became caught in the neck joint, so he levered all of his weight onto it, praying for a miracle. As its arm swung back for another attempt, he felt something give, and the head popped free, causing the entire construct to fall limply to the ground, taking Jo'Rakha with it.

He lay motionless atop the destroyed machine, panting for breath, the pain in his chest now fully re-awakened. Try as he might, he simply couldn't find the strength to climb to his feet. Instead, he crawled off of the burnished metal of the Centurion and along the ground until he was leaning next to Muz-Ra's limp form. He carefully checked her pulse, surprised to find that she still had one, thought it was very weak. He forced himself to his knees beside her and lifted her until her was cradling her head in his lap. No one should need to die alone.

The motion slowly brought her to consciousness. Her robe was soaked with blood, and more was flowing out with every sluggish beat of her heart until it had soaked Jo'Rakha's trousers as well. "Jo'Rakha," she whispered, "I hurt."

Jo'Rakha softly stroked one side of her face with his free hand. "I know. It will be over soon," he answered softly, "I'm so sorry. This shouldn't have happened. None of this should have happened." He shook his head, feeling tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes as he felt his companions come up beside him.

"Am I dying?" the Argonian asked, a look of fear coming to life in her eyes, "I don't want to die! I… I can't feel my legs!"

"Shh…" Jo'Rakha whispered, "You're not dying. You're just tired is all. Close your eyes and let sleep take you. You'll feel better then, I promise. The pain will be gone then." He wasn't able to hold the tears back as he felt one roll down his cheek until gravity took it and it landed on the young woman's chest.

Her tears followed as she nodded, and a look of lethargy came over her features. "Okay. I can sleep. I am tired. Are you sure the pain will go away?" she asked, her hand coming up to take Jo'Rakha's.

The old Khajiit let her take his hand and nodded. "I'm sure. Just close your eyes and the pain will be gone. You'll be back somewhere warm, enjoying the night with your friends, I promise."

Muz-Ra nodded once more and slowly closed her eyes. Jo'Rakha remained completely motionless until he felt her breath stop. He then carefully lowered her head to the ground and forced himself to his feet, finding new strength at the injustice of the young woman's death, before turning to look at the others. Lucidius had a look of worry on his face.

"Are you okay, my old friend?" he asked, reaching out to grasp Jo'Rakha's shoulder.

"No, I'm not, and I never will be again. I never thought I'd have to repeat that experience. The first time was bad enough. Now, don't we have a tower to reach?" Jo'Rakha hissed angrily and pushed passed Lucidius onto the path where his bow was lying. He picked it up and started towards the archway into the city, ignoring the occasional Falmer arrow fired in his direction. He wasn't angry because he had had to watch someone young enough to be his daughter die. He was angry because he finally realized why he hated Ladia: she could lie to someone without feeling any sense of guilt or remorse.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Ladia stood silently, looking at the body of the fallen healer, considering Jo'Rakha's words. "What is he talking about?" she heard Arbell ask.

"There was a battle during the Great War," Lucidius explained, "We had had another Khajiit in our unit, a woman who was about Muz-Ra's age. She and Jo'Rakha had become quite close, but she was fatally wounded in the battle. It fell to Jo'Rakha to ease her into the Ether."

"And now he had to do it again. I'm guessing she reminded him of her," the Breton said, her voice contemplative.

"Not in behavior, but her personality was very similar. Always willing to help another, no matter what the cost," the Imperial stated quietly, his eyes fixed on the Argonian's corpse.

"I probably shouldn't revive her then…" Arbell trailed off.

"That would definitely be a bad idea," Ladia cut in, "He would probably gut you if you did." She was surprised that the Breton was alive. Sure, she was skilled, but her skills were hardly exemplary. Ladia had been forced into combat with countless battlemages and spellswords over the years. None had been able to best her, and almost all had had greater skill than the pale Breton standing before her. And her practice of necromancy, while not exactly detestable, was certainly _interesting_. Most necromancers practiced their art out of an interest of finding the secret to immortality. It seemed that Arbell performed it out of some perverted fascination for the bodies of her victims. Ladia found herself wondering what the result would have been had Ladia ever met Mannimarco before his demise. The legendary necromancer would most likely have consumed the pale girl before she even had a chance to defend herself.

Ladia finally brought her attention back to the here and now to see Lucidius and Arbell following after Jo'Rakha. She hurried after them, shortsword in hand, and caught up at the archway leading into the city. Looking in, Ladia was surprised to see the state the city was in. Most of the buildings were in ruins, either having collapsed completely, or tilting precariously as though they were about to fall. The open spaces were filled with rubble, but Ladia could see several forms pushing their way towards them. To her surprise, most were not Falmer.

"Thralls?" she asked out loud as a Nord threw himself at her. His weapon was a rock he had picked up off the ground. She deftly side-stepped his clumsy attack and ran him through. "How do they have thralls? Why do they have thralls? This goes against everything we know of them!" She continued as she pulled her blade from the Nord and countered the attack of a High Elf armed with a primitive club.

"I could care less about the how or why!" Lucidius announced as he took the blow of a large Orc on his shield, then skewered him on his Legion blade, "All I care about is how many!"

"Shouldn't be too many!" Jo'Rakha panted as he fired an arrow into the advancing mob, killing a Nord wearing a simple loincloth, "I can't imagine too many people coming close to Falmer dwellings!"

There was no more time to speak as the force descended on them. Lucidius held the line with Ladia, while Arbell did her best to protect Jo'Rakha from the few stragglers who managed to slide past the more skilled fighters. The Khajiit remained in the back, raining down a hail of death on the mob.

Ladia lost herself in the killing. She ceased to be an Imperial-turned-vampire, and instead became a creature of death. Her sword knew where to go of its own accord. All she had to do was guide it there. Dozens fell as they assailed her, and the seconds dilated into hours as she killed. An Imperial with a crude blade appeared before her, only to have his head shorn from his shoulders a moment later. He was followed by a lithe wood elf, whose form was quickly consumed by the flames conjured in her hand.

When it was finally over, Ladia had to force that alter ego, something she simply called the 'Angel of Death' out of her mind to take back control. The courtyard was littered with corpses, both Falmer and thrall. She surveyed the carnage, a strange sense of bliss overcoming her. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she reveled in the death, the killing. If she could, she would have spent her entire life doing just that, but the reality was different. The vampires who gave into the impulse to kill and just keep killing swiftly were themselves, killed. To survive, you had to be smart. That was how Ladia was one of the few beings left alive who still remembered the Oblivion Crisis two hundred years ago.

"Where's that tower?" Arbell asked, turning on the spot to survey the ceiling far above them, "This place is a death trap!"

"This way," Jo'Rakha hissed, one hand unconsciously clutching his side, "We need to go through one of these ruins a short way before we can reach it." Watching him, Ladia knew that his time was nearly up. He had maybe another ten minutes before his body would give in, no matter how stubborn he was.

She fell into step beside Lucidius as they let the archer lead. He pushed open a door into one of the ruins and slipped inside, followed by the remainder if the group. Once inside, Lucidius motioned for a break. He pushed the door closed again, then dragged a heavy shelving unit in front of it. "That should hold them for a while. Take a drink of water while you can. We'll just catch our breath for a few moments, then continue on. Jo, are you okay?"

The Khajiit shot Lucidius a knowing look as he straightened his stance. "Yeah, I'm fine," he panted, "Just got a small flesh wound in the fighting. Don't worry about me."

Lucidius watched his friend a moment longer before nodding. He pulled out a waterskin and took a deep drink. "All right. Is everyone ready?" he asked, looking from person to person. There were only three others left.

They all nodded.

"Good. Let's go." Lucidius started down a hallway, heading in the general direction in which the tower was supposed to be. They made quick time, not wasting any time in the rooms they traveled through to see if something would come out to attack them. Only once were they forced to stop and fight.

They were in a large boiler room that had pipes running along the walls and ceiling, with pistons on the wall working to send to steam to the gods-only-knew-where. Several spheres dropped out of the walls and started advancing towards them. The took up a triangular formation, with Jo'Rakha at the center, where he would be most effective, and fended the attacking spheres off.

Ladia felt the Angel attempting to take back control, but she firmly shunted it aside. This enemy was not alive, and so the Angel would gain no joy from their destruction, and the Angel could not be removed if its lust for blood was not sated. So Ladia had to fight without its help. She was good, but she wasn't at her best. The sphere's fell like leaves before her, but not without managing to draw blood from a few lucky strikes.

The battle finally ended as Arbell shoved her blade through the soul gem powering one of the automatons, and it clattered to the ground, motionless. "Everyone all right?" Lucidius asked, casting about the room for any hidden enemies.

"Just a few scratches. Nothing to worry about," Arbell announced.

"Same with me. Let's keep moving," Ladia said, "I fear the Falmer are simply organizing a counterattack and are waiting for us to stop."

"Believe it or not, but I agree with the vampire," Jo'Rakha wheezed, "We need to move, now."

Lucidius shot his friend a worried look, "Jo, you don't sound good."

"There's nothing you can do about it, my old friend. If you want me to remain useful for a while longer, we need to move. Now!" Jo'Rakha hissed as he started to walk, but he found his path blocked by the old Legionnaire.

"No. You're hurt and need help. What's the injury, soldier?" he asked commandingly. His tone had taken on the note of authority that no soldier would be able to ignore.

"Took an arrow to the chest in the first fight down here. Pierced my lung. I don't have long, so we need to move. Muz-Ra wouldn't have been able to help me, so don't even bother with that accusation. I knew I was a dead man as soon as I saw it."

Ladia found herself wincing at the look of pain that came over Lucidius' face. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, "We could have done something to help."

"Don't you understand, Lucidius, you couldn't!" Jo'Rakha shot back, "I didn't say anything, because that way I would be able to live out my life on my feet, fighting to give you your last shot at yours. It's all I've wanted for many years. Now let's move. Let me help you for just a little longer."

Lucidius remained silent as he looked into his friend's eyes, then finally nodded. "Okay. Let's go. We're almost there."

True to his prediction, they arrived at the tower's base a moment later. A square block of stone sat in the center of the room, surrounded on all sides by a bronze grate. One side held a gate that appeared to be locked. In the center of the block was a simple bronze lever, like any of the dozens they had seen in the dwarven ruins.

Lucidius approached the gate and tried to shove it open. "Dammit, it's locked. Jo, can you get it open?" He turned to look at his friend. Jo'Rakha was panting heavily, struggling to breathe. Blood was starting to seep out of the bandage.

"Yeah, just give me a moment," the Khajiit whispered. He approached the gate and got to work. "Watch my back, yeah?"

Lucidius nodded and turned to Ladia. "Watch the door we came through. Arbell, help her. I want to be by his side for the last few minutes of his life."

Ladia could understand the feeling. She had been around the two long enough to know how deep their relationship went. The two were closer than family, and what Jo'Rakha had said had some semblance of truth to it: her treatment of Lucidius had not been entirely fair, but there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She had had to leave all those times to protect him.

Rather than answer, she simply nodded and made her way to the door. Arbell was already standing there, staff in hand. Ladia could see a light blue glow around the head of the staff. She had it charged in case something had followed them.

"You kinda have to feel bad for the old man," Arbell mused, "Tries for one last shot at glory and riches, and simply gets his closest friend killed in the attempt."

"Lucidius has been through far more in his life than most people ever have to survive. Even so, I fear this may be what finally breaks him," Ladia answered.

The Breton nodded silently, then turned her attention back to the hallway. The silence of the ruin was oppressive and seemed to swallow up almost every other sound that was made. Ladia leaned against the doorframe, her sword in hand, and waited.

Before long, the two women heard a faint click come from where the two old soldiers were. Arbell made to walk back, but Ladia reached out to stop her. "Leave them be," she said, "Lucidius won't appreciate any interruptions right now. Jo'Rakha is dying, and it isn't our place to interfere."

Arbell gave Ladia a confused look, but allowed herself to be held back. After a few minutes, Lucidius approached them. His face was haggard and his eyes were filled with tears.

"The gate's open. Let's go," was all he said before he turned and walked back.

The two women followed him back into the room. As they entered the grated area, Ladia looked around and noticed a dark, motionless form lying in the shadows by one of the walls. She thought she could make out a bow lying across the form's chest. She sighed and pulled the gate closed behind them.

Lucidius pulled the lever and the floor started to move upward. They all started in surprise at the movement, but quickly realized that it was what the tower was designed for. If it was still working after centuries of neglect, they should be carried all the way to the top of the mountain.

The expedition had become a dismal failure, Ladia found herself thinking. They had arrived with seven highly skilled individuals, but now only three were still alive. Was any treasure worth that cost, especially when one of the people lost was a lifelong friend of the man who had started the expedition?

She toyed with the thought for a long while, but couldn't come up with an answer. Jo'Rakha and her had never really gotten along, but she could still appreciate the friendship that he had had with Lucidius.

As the elevator began to slow to a halt, Ladia came to a realization. Whatever they found at the summit of this mountain, it would not be worth the cost. Lucidius was now a broken husk of what he once was. He would never again be able to live as he once had. With that realization, Ladia decided that she no longer had a purpose to be here. She would slip away at the soonest possible opportunity. If she didn't, the cost of her staying could very well be much greater than she was willing to pay.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Journey's End

**Chapter Seven**

Lucidius felt empty. Four people had lost their lives as a result of his choices, one of whom was his oldest friend and companion. Now that Jo'Rakha was dead, every reason he had for coming to this gods-forsaken place no longer held any merit. Even now that they had reached the end of their journey, all that the old legionnaire felt was pain and sadness. He could only hope that the treasure, whatever it may be, would be worth the cost.

When the elevator finally came to a stop, Lucidius leaned on a lever set into the wall that opened the gate to the outside. A blistering cold wind swept into the confines of the structure, carrying small particles of snow along with it. Within seconds, Lucidius was freezing as the chill seemed to set itself into his very bones.

He stepped out of the elevator and glanced at the sky. It was overcast, and snow was falling steadily, building up into deep drifts on the mountaintop. It appeared to be late afternoon. They had spent almost twelve hours in the depths of the dwarven ruin and Blackreach. A small path, barely discernible in the falling snow, led from the dwarven structure that housed the elevator up towards the mountain's summit.

Lucidius sighed and started forward, trusting the others to fall into step behind him. He trudged through the snow up the winding path, struggling to follow it up. At times it seemed to completely disappear and he was forced to guess which route to take. As long as he kept moving up, he figured he was going the right way.

The path finally led to a narrow passage between some large boulders that opened up into a natural bowl at the summit, with one end opening to a cliff revealing the land laid out before it. The depression was dominated by a massive carved wall that seemed to have some sort of script inscribed into the inner surface of its curve. Lucidius trembled at the thought that the wall might be the artifact that had been rumored of. After all, with the return of the dragons a few months ago, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the Empire of the person calling themselves 'Dragonborn' and their ability to absorb some sort of power from the ancient ruins of Skyrim.

Lucidius was so caught up in his thoughts as he approached the wall that he didn't notice the sarcophagus placed nearby, or that the lid was trembling. He simply marched up to the wall and sank to his knees in front of it.

"Is this what I killed my closest friend for?" he asked aloud, not expecting a response. It felt as though the gods were playing some cruel joke on him.

"Uh, Lucidius, I think we have a problem," Arbell announced, coming up behind him and dragging him to his feet.

Lucidius slowly turned to look at what had frightened the Breton. The lid of the sarcophagus had completely fallen free and a skeletal form was rising from its depths. It was clad in a flowing red robe and held a staff stylized much like Arbell's: its head curving in the shape of a dragon's neck and head. As it descended from the sarcophagus, Lucidius noticed that it wasn't actually stepping on the ground, but rather was floating a few inches above it. He lifted his gaze to peer into its face, and was met by the grim visage of a steel mask that glowed with a dull red light.

"By the Eight! What is that thing!" Lucidius exclaimed, "Ladia, what do you know of this?" When he didn't receive a response, he cast about, searching for the vampire. Surely the weather would keep of the worst of the sun and allow her to fight, but she was nowhere in sight. She had abandoned them.

"I am Vodahmin, the Unremembered, the forgotten Priest of the Dragon Cult!" the form announced, its voice ringing with such power that Lucidius found himself kneeling down to escape its wrath, "And you are trespassing in my place of rest! This transgression shall not go unpunished!"

The form lifted its staff and thrust it towards Arbell. A bolt of lightning shot forth from the dragon's maw adorning its tip and lanced towards the Breton. She attempted to erect a magical barrier to block the attack, but was a split second too late as the bolt struck her in the chest and she crumbled to the ground with a shriek of agony.

Lucidius forced himself to his feet and drew his sword. He had faced many terrifying foes and unnatural obstacle during his career in the Legion. A single Lich didn't frighten him. He started advancing, holding his shield before him, prepared for any attack.

"You think to face me? You will learn why I was cast away here and forgotten! Your ashes shall join all the others that believed themselves my equal, and all memories of you shell be cast aside and forgotten!" Vodahmin shouted and attacked once more with its staff.

Lucidius caught the blow on his shield, but the jolt sent a lance of pain down his arm and through his body that dropped him to his knees and left him writhing in agony. "I do not fear death," He hissed through gritted teeth as he once again forced himself to his feet, "And the life of my friend shall not be for nothing!"

He started forward once again until he was within attacking range. Gritting hit teeth against the pain of the lightning bolt, he struck out, bringing his short Legion blade up in a stabbing motion that would have left most enemies skewered on its sharpened length, but this was not most enemies. The blade passed cleanly through the creature's robe, but did not do any noticeable damage to the Lich itself.

Instead of a shriek of pain, Vodahmin started to laugh. "Foolish mortal, to think that a Dragon Priest could be so easily slain! I shall show you the error of your ways! Zun Haal Viik!" it Shouted.

Lucidius felt his weapon and shield get torn from his hand, as if an enemy infinitely stronger than himself had ripped them from his grasp. There was nothing he could do to maintain his hold on the weapons. He scrambled after his blade, but was too slow and watched in horror as it clattered down the mountainside. Vodahmin was laughing from where it stood. "Now you have seen only a fraction of the power I wield!" It gestured in the air as it advanced on Lucidius and a sword came into being in its hand. The handle was black as pitch, but the blade gleamed white, even in the dim light of the overcast day. It didn't appear to be made of metal, but rather of bone. Lucidius feared that it had been forged of dragonbone.

Just as the Lich lunged to plunge its blade into his chest, a spike of ice imbedded itself in its chest and it let out a shriek of pain. "I am not dead yet!" Arbell shouted shakily, kneeling in the know, her staff stretched out towards the Priest. The chainmail covering chest was blackened and smoking, and she was hunched over, the hand not supporting the staff clutching at her side.

Lucidius turned his gaze from the Dragon Priest to watch the necromancer as she shakily hauled herself to her feet, using her staff as a support. When she had finally regained her footing, she drew her blade and stood in a combat stance. Lucidius could tell by watching her that she was not expecting to survive the encounter. She wasn't standing in any sort of form that would allow for defense or agility. Her only purpose was to kill.

The Lich turned on Arbell and drifted towards her, lifting its staff and sending a barrage of lightning bolts at her. This time, she managed to erect a ward in time and deflected the bolts of energy. She fired back with several ice spikes, each one finding their mark and imbedding themselves in the Lich's form.

Lucidius started towards the Lich's back, but without a weapon, he was less than useless. When he was within a few yards of it, he noticed Arbell looking towards him as she fended of its attacks. Seeing that he was close, she launched a furious assault, shooting spikes of ice with her staff and swinging wildly with her blade, attempting to buy herself some space. Her attempt succeeded, but at a cost. She drove the Lich back a few paces, but took a wicked slash to her arm in the process. Her staff dropped to the ground as she grunted in pain, blood flowing from the open wound. In a last desperate maneuver, she threw her blade at the Lich, but missed.

It laughed at her attempt as it brought its sword to bear and moved in for the kill. However, the throw had not been intended to kill. The blade had landed just a few feet from where Lucidius stood. He lifted the weapon and charged. When he reached his target he thrust the weapon into the creatures back, aiming for where the heart would be on a live person. The Lich shuddered violently as the blade slid home, releasing a violent scream as it twisted around, forgetting the Breton as it attempted to swing at him.

Lucidius clung to his blade, praying that it would be enough to kill the creature. To his horror, the Lich dropped its staff and managed to grasp him by his armor. It lifted him free from his back and flung him to the ground, twenty feet away, then advanced on him, blade held threateningly before it. "You think to defeat me so easily! You are both beaten, your attempts have failed. Accept your demise!" It shouted, thrusting forward with its blade.

Lucidius desperately brought his arm up to protect himself. He managed to just barely deflect the blade from impaling him, instead sending it grinding over his bracer and into the snow by his head. He reached out with his other arm and gripped the Lich's wrist. The bony limb seemed extremely frail in his grasp, as he easily wrapped his hand around the naked bone. He twisted, praying that it was just as frail as it appeared. To his surprise, the bones snapped and the hand fell free, releasing the dragonbone sword. The Lich screamed in pain and lunged with its other arm, trying to grasp the Legionnaire by the throat.

Lucidius rolled to the side, knocking the blade away from the reaching hand as he did, and came up in a crouch. The dragonbone sword lay just a few feet away, white blade glinting with an inner light in the snow. The Lich saw where he was looking and moved to block him. Lucidius ignored the movement and dive for the sword.

He landed atop it, then rolled, bringing the blade up between himself and the Lich and thrust forward. Vodahmin impaled itself on the blade's length and writhed in agony as its bones began to disintegrate. Lucidius dragged himself to his feet by the swords hilt, then shoved it even farther into the Lich's chest. Vodahmin jerked violently as the blade consumed its life force.

The robe burst into flame, the heat only speeding the destruction of its bones. Before long, all that was left of the Lich was a pile of ash with the steel mask lying in its center.

Lucidius was breathing heavily as he knelt down by the pile of ash and lifted out the mask. It was heavy, far heavier than something that size ought to be. It was still glowing with a faint red light. It seemed that this mask was what the legends had been speaking of, but the truth of what it was, and what it had been guarded by, had been lost to the flow of time.

He levered himself back to his feet, then walked over to where Arbell was lying. The young woman was unconscious, and Lucidius could easily see why. Her armor was coated in blood from the vicious wound left by the Lich's sword. Lucidius quickly pulled a healing draught from his pack and forced it down the Bretons lips, forcing her to swallow. The wound began to heal itself before his eyes, the flesh knitting together as the power of the potion flowed through her. He then pulled out a bandage and bound it over the remaining cut of the wound.

Slowly, Arbell began to come around as the potion did its work. "What… what happened?" she asked shakily, her words slurred.

"We were attacked by an ancient Lich, a Dragon Priest," Lucidius explained, "but it's dead now. We managed to kill it, if only barely."

"I remember," Arbell answered, some of the color returning to her face, "Did you find what we came her for?"

"I think so." Lucidius pulled out the mask he had taken, "I think something like this could easily pass into legends as an artifact of great power. My only question is whether or not it was worth it. My best friend is dead." He walked away from Arbell towards the cliff edge.

He heard Arbell force herself to her feet and join him. "I think he would be happy to see you succeed. All you can do know is live hoping that it was good enough for him."

Lucidius looked down at the mask in his hands. It was beautiful, there could be no doubt about that, but it didn't seem like his friend's life was worth the cost. "I suppose it will have to do," he whispered to no one in particular, "I hope you can forgive me for my inability to listen to your counsel, my old friend."

The End

{Well, this is it, the end of Lucidius' adventure. Thank you to everyone that took the time to read this and leave some feedback! I learned a few things from everything left for me, and enjoyed putting this story together. I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Cheers!}


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